


one glance (and my hearbeat stops)

by habitualwords



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Kissing in the Rain, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-25
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-12-19 17:01:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11902158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/habitualwords/pseuds/habitualwords
Summary: Seungkwan smiles at Seokmin, and it's summer sweet, like the ice pops you buy for 50 cents, dripping down your fingers. It's hesitant too, but willing to try. They slide their hands together, palms meeting like they're praying, two halves of a whole asking for something bigger.





	one glance (and my hearbeat stops)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [the1the8](https://archiveofourown.org/users/the1the8/gifts).



> Hello! I hope you enjoy this fic, as I had so much fun writing it despite it being a pinch hit. I also hope it manifests in a way you hoped your prompts would manifest T___T. Thank you to delight, for always guiding me where words fail me. Title credits to Avalanche - Walk the Moon, a song I played on loop as I wrote this

Seokmin’s not particularly sure what he’s doing when he finds himself outside a store which proclaims accurate psychic readings but here’s what he does know. Mingyu’s boyfriend Minghao is some sort of witch, and apparently, his mother owns this store.

 

“C’mon, Seok,” Mingyu had whined. “It won’t hurt to get your future read! Maybe you’ll figure out when you’re going to find love again!”

 

It’s been almost 2 years since Seokmin and Yuna had broken up, and it didn’t worry Seokmin that he was still single. Sure, there were times when he wished for the gaping loneliness in him to be filled up by something bigger, better, but he was a sociable person. He had a circle of friends - which  included exes —  that he met every week or so. He loved his classes, he had a love-hate relationship with his job and he hasn't killed his roommates yet, despite their tendency to have loud sex.

 

Seokmin’s a romantic, but the practical kind. The kind that believes love will find him of its own accord and take root slowly. Which is very different from the kind of romantic Mingyu is, who believes with all his heart in concepts like fate and destiny and  _ soulmates _ . If it wasn’t for the fact that supernatural beings were common on their plane of existence, Seokmin would swear that Mingyu’s powers of belief had conjured Minghao up. And sure, soulmates  _ existed _ and Seokmin's own parents were proof of that, but he himself isn't exactly the soulmate searching type.

 

“My mom can even give you a love potion if you want,” Minghao offers.

 

Seokmin snorts. “I’m not that desperate.”

 

“No,” Minghao smiles cryptically. “No, you’re not. In fact, I don't think you need it.”

 

That’s how he finds himself standing outside the store, neon lights glowing and humming eerily. He knows the store is magical, because it appears unaffected by the heavy rain, a circle of protective magic keeping it dry all the way up to the sidewalk. He barely gets wet in the few steps they take from Mingyu’s car to the perimeter of magic.

 

He shivers when he crosses over —  the circle lets him in easily but not without making Seokmin feel like he’s been plunged into a bucket of icy water.

 

“Your mother is very powerful,” Seokmin murmurs.

 

Minghao grins pointedly while Mingyu laughs, and while this would usually make Seokmin feel like he’s out of the loop, he’d rather not know the context of this. Mingyu has a history of dating supernaturals, and then exploiting their powers for his sex life. The furthest Seokmin had gotten with a supernatural, on the other hand, was the time he’d been completely entranced by a fey in their high school, Jung Jaehyun. And there was that one time with Yoon Jeonghan in his sophomore year, where Seokmin had trailed after the faerie  helplessly.

 

And yes, there’s a pattern between him and his love life. He pined.  _ A lot _ .

 

The front door is painted a reassuring shade of blue, adorned with several different charms. Seokmin recognizes an evil eye, an eye of Horus and --

 

"Is that the Deathly Hallows?" he asks, incredulous.

 

Up close, the silver charm hanging right under the Eye of Horus  _ is _ , in fact, the Deathly Hallows. Minghao scowls at this, blush rising up his face.

 

"I bought that after the first time I read Harry Potter. When I moved out, my mom hung it up as a joke. It helps with the teenagers though."

 

Almost as if it recognizes Minghao’s close proximity, the door swings open. Immediately, Seokmin's senses are assaulted by the scent of eucalyptus. Even  _ more _ protective magic, unless the year of essential potions he did in college was actually useless, and he's wrong. There are candles of all shapes and sizes scattered across the various surfaces in what seems to be a waiting area, all of them flickering with a steady flame. On the wall is a massive mural, showing the rocky outcrops of Seoraksan, which Seokmin vaguely remembers as the Samhain gathering site for the witches of South Korea.

 

Even the air in the store  _ feels _ different, tense with something that, at first, appears resistant against Seokmin but mellows down with every passing moment. It's much like residual static after a lightning strike, the air charged and tasting of pure metal, except without the lingering physical effects. With every passing moment, the aura of the house warms up to him, oddly familiar and filled with the similar energy that surrounds Minghao.

 

"Cool, isn't it?" Mingyu asks, grinning in excitement.

 

Cool isn't quite the word Seokmin would use. Intimidating is better. The store just  _ reeks _ of magic, and it's enough to warrant the reach of the protective circle.

 

"Yeah, it's something," Seokmin agrees.

 

"Ma!" Minghao hollers. "I brought some friends for a reading!"

 

The velvet curtain that had been hiding the entrance to another room is pushed aside, and Minghao's mother is there. She looks young,  _ extremely _ so, if Seokmin's being honest. The silk robe she's wearing is inlaid with charms he recognizes from his history textbooks, and so are the various jewelleries that she wears. A smile breaks out across her stern face, softening it considerably, and like this, Seokmin can see the similarities between Minghao and her. That, and the cloud of magic she carries with her.

 

"Hello Mingyu!" she greets enthusiastically, sweeping him into a hug.

 

Seokmin stays awkwardly slouched behind Mingyu, half intimidated out of his mind and half, oddly enough, reassured by her.

 

"And Seokmin!" She turns to him, shaking his hand with a firm grip before pulling him in for a hug as well. Mrs Xu smells like the universal scent of mothers: their best perfume and the spices of their kitchen, hands soft despite all their hard work.

 

"How'd you know my name?" Seokmin mumbles.

 

"The house told me," she smiles kindly. "I learnt quite a bit about you the moment you stepped into my house."

 

"Nothing embarrassing, I hope," he jokes.

 

Her eyes glint mischievously. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

 

Seokmin's filled with a sense of mortification, wondering what shameful secrets his aura might've told her.

 

"Relax," Minghao says. "Your aura's all cloudy with shame, it fucks with the house."

 

"Language, Xiao Hao," his mother warns.

 

Minghao smiles, ducking down to kiss her cheek. "Yes, mama."

 

"So who’s going first?" She asks with an expectant smile.

 

"He's the only one getting read." Seokmin makes a noise of protest when he's roughly pushed forward by Mingyu. He wants to back out  _ right now _ .

 

"Excellent," Mrs Xu says, clapping her hands together. "Follow me, Seokmin."

 

He flips both Mingyu and Minghao off behind her back before entering the room. It's surprisingly neat, a wooden table in the center with a deck of tarot cards on it. The pervasive scent of eucalyptus isn't in this room, and neither are the various charms or candles.

 

"Tea, Seokmin?" Mrs Xu offers, shoving a teacup under his nose as soon as he's sat down.

 

"Thank you, Mrs Xu," he takes the proffered cup, relishing the warmth that floods his body at his first sip.

 

It tastes oddly like the chrysanthemum tea his own mother would make, right down to the slight notes of sugar.

 

"Please," she waves her hand. "Call me mama, I insist. I make all of Minghao's friends call me that, I think I've adopted the whole lot at this point."

 

Seokmin laughs good naturedly. The more time he spends in her presence, the more relaxed he feels. Mrs Xu shuffles the deck expertly, the bracelets on her wrist clinking together quietly. Despite what Seokmin knows about modern witches, which is quite a lot, considering his focus study on supernatural relations, nothing about the woman in front of him fits what he expects of witches. He's met several, but none of them carry themselves with such a maternal charm, or make him as relaxed as she does. Even on a good day, the cloud of magic that hangs around Minghao is enough to scare him but with her, it's different. The spread is fanned out across the table, large and heavy looking. Seokmin has seen several decks before but hers is especially beautiful.

 

"You have a beautiful deck," he offers.

 

Her perpetual smile brightens considerably. "Thank you, they were a gift from my husband."

 

"So he's a witch too?"

 

"Fey, actually."

 

"That explains a lot about Minghao,"

 

"He is quite powerful, isn't he?" Seokmin nods, and Mrs Xu takes his hand in hers, laying it on top of the cards. "Remember, concentrate on your deepest desire, and pull out what speaks to you."

 

Seokmin closes his eyes, trusting his instinct to guide him. He moves his hand over the deck several times, the words in his brain a mess. He's not exactly sure what he's looking for himself; something to fill up the gnawing emptiness, some sense of fulfilment, some promise that he's not at lost as he thinks he is. Something tangible to tell him fate's got her plan for him, and that he's not going to fall off the wheel.

 

It's only then the deck feels different. Again, similar to the rest of the house - that it’s charged, somehow. Seokmin's intuitive, picking up these things easier than his other human classmates do. A static shock runs through his fingertips when his hand hovers over a particular card, and he pulls it out. He pulls out a second card when he feels the same shock, and finally the third, blinking in rapid succession when he opens his eyes again. Across him, Mrs Xu's smile is warm and excited.

 

"You picked a good lot, I believe."

 

She gathers the rest of the cards, placing them to side before she flips over his own card. Staring back at him, all upright, are the Three of Cups, the Nine of Cups and the Eight of Pentacles. It does seem like they're all good cards, maybe on the side of too good for him.

 

Unacknowledged by Seokmin, except for when he's very drunk, very high or feeling  _ especially _ morose, is the gnawing insecurity of never being enough. He's not asking for a bigger, grander plan, but when he looks at his friends, he feels terribly  _ plain _ . These are cards meant for someone like Mingyu, not Lee Seokmin.

 

"Stop that," Mrs Xu says, not unkindly. "Your aura just coloured horribly."

 

Her expression is akin to Minghao's when he's sensed something particularly repulsive  _ or _ when Jeonghan has his hands near  _ anyone’s _ ass.

 

She grabs one of his hands resting on the table, squeezing it gently. Seokmin smiles.

 

"The Three of Cups, celebration, friendship. The Nine of Cups, wished fulfilled, satisfaction. The Eight of Pentacles, quality, engagement."

 

"The Three of Cups means you’ll find a balance between meeting your commitments and spending quality time with your friends, maybe even your family. There will be something coming up for that will be a cause for celebration. The Nine of Cups, well, it’s not called the wish card for no reason. It reflects happiness in all aspects of your life.”

 

She squeezes his hand again.

 

“The Eight of Pentacles is a sign you’re committed to making the necessary changes to ensure an overall satisfaction in your life. A good turnout, don’t you think?”

 

Seokmin allows himself a smile. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s a good turnout.”

 

Mrs Xu runs her thumb over his pulse point and he jerks his hand out of surprise when it hurts, almost like he was stung by a bee. 

 

"Seokmin, does anyone in your family have a history of soulmate marks? Your parents or grandparents, perhaps?"

 

"My parents  _ and _ grandparents were bound by soulmate marks. The uhhh, mom called it touch activated kind?"

 

Mrs Xu hums, smiling. "I'd watch the people I touch, if I were you. It appears you're naturally predisposed to the supernatural too."

 

Seokmin grins easily. "Mingyu told me you were good, but not this good."

 

Mrs Xu waves his praise off, cheeks pinking slightly. "You're more than welcome darling. Drop by often!"

  
  


"So?" Mingyu asks.

 

"Can't you tell by the smile on his face? Mama gave him good news." Minghao gently smacks Mingyu upside the head.

 

If Seokmin's blushing as they walk towards the car, no one brings it up.

  
  


Seokmin isn't a superstitious person, not the way his grandmother or mother are. Roughly two decades of living under their roof, however, had instinctively trained him to look out for, and expect, certain things. Like how putting faith in a reading was more likely to channel positive energy and therefore, positive outlooks from said reading. Minghao was a powerful witch, his mother even more so; to say Seokmin had faith in her readings was an understatement.

 

He knows they'll play out. He just doesn't know  _ how _ . 

 

_ How _ , as it happens, occurs two weeks later. He's pretty sure he's reading his planner wrong when he sees an essay due for his demonology class penciled in for tomorrow. An essay that he vaguely remembers doing the assigned readings for and  _ maybe _ an outline, but definitely not the full thing.

 

"Fuck," he swears, gathering his laptop and his textbooks. On the sofa, Mingyu raises an eyebrow.

 

"Forgot a paper." He grabs his wallet and keys, rushing for the door. Mingyu's face twists into an expression of kindred pain; god knows how many papers he's forgotten before.

 

"Good luck!" Mingyu calls after his retreating back.

 

The first place Seokmin visits is the library, which, three weeks away from finals, is full of students. There's no way he'll find a seat in this mess, which leaves him one other option.  _ 1997 _ is  _ not _ the only supernatural friendly cafe on campus but it  _ is _ the only cafe which has hired a demon. He thinks that discriminatory laws against demons are bullshit, because, well. One of his best friends is a demon, and sure, Soonyoung has a mischievous streak about a mile wide that could wrap around the circumference planet twice but they're a decent person, all things considered.

 

The cafe is surprisingly,  _ blessedly _ empty for a weekday. Soonyoung's behind the counter, shooting Seokmin several enthusiastic finger guns. There are a handful of people scattered at various tables, but none at his regular table, several feet within the counter and close enough for him to yap with Soonyoung. Seokmin leaves his stuff at the table before making his way to the cashier. Instead of Soonyoung taking his order, it's the other cashier on duty, a boy with round cheeks and a pleasant smile, hair dyed (naturally?) a shade that resembles Seokmin’s green highlighter. His nametag reads Seungkwan.

 

"Bad dye job?" Seokmin asks sympathetically.

 

Soonyoung cackles, which means Seokmin's fucked up. _ Royally _ .

 

Seungkwan's brow furrows. "Are you stupid, or have you never seen a faerie before?"

 

He  _ has _ fucked up, and on a degree that's worse than royal; everyone knows faeries can carry nasty grudges. Jeonghan definitely can.

 

"Uh," Seokmin stammers.

 

"Nevermind," Seungkwan rolls his eyes. "What would you like to have?"

 

Seokmin's prone to being more than slightly impulsive, if his taste in friends (Mingyu and Soonyoung) and his taste in alcohol (demon vodka) indicates anything. This sudden, burning need to impress Seungkwan that makes itself known however, is misplaced in the sea of his impulsive behaviour. It's like a ghost has materialised right behind Seokmin and prodded a toe in his back, with a hissed  _ do something _ . He turns around just in case, to check for any potentially rushed spirits.

 

"Can I get uhhh—"

 

"Two liter machine broke. We got one liter though," Soonyoung comments.

 

Seokmin glares at them, but Seungkwan burst into peals of melodic laughter.

 

Have you ever experienced that moment where the entire universe shifts into place with an audible noise, and you come to the stunning, enlightening moment where you realize everything is going to be alright? That is Seungkwan's laughter, and if Seokmin strains his ears enough, the audible sighs of the plants in the cafe can be heard, all of them gravitating towards Seungkwan.

 

"I'll have an iced Americano, large. With a shot of ambrosia, please." Seokmin stammers out.

 

Seungkwan's face furrows in worry. "If I didn't think you were stupid before, I really do now. Should I be worried?"

 

Soonyoung waves Seungkwan's concern off. "Ring him up, Kwannie. Seok's just got to power through something, probably."

 

"If you're sure," Seungkwan mutters.

 

Seokmin smiles hesitantly. "I  _ am _ sure."

 

Seungkwan rings him up, and Seokmin hands him the change, dropping a hefty tip into the jar as well. He ignores Seungkwan’s raised eyebrow, taking his coffee with a murmured thanks. Their fingers brush and a flare of pain runs up Seokmin’s hands. He figures it’s probably Seungkwan’s revenge for the hair comment.

 

The first sip of ambrosia laced coffee is enough to make him feel like he’s got the energy to take on 3 bulls  _ and _ win, all while composing a song for his soulmate. Soonyoung, surprisingly, is of plenty help when they figure out Seokmin’s paper advocates for demon rights. Two ambrosia laced Americanos and 5 hours later, his paper is more or less done, only missing an introduction and the citations, which he knows he can bang out easily. 

 

5 hours later, his hand is also itching acutely. In fact, if it wasn’t for the constant itching of his right hand, Seokmin probably would have finished his paper within four hours instead of five. There’s even a big splotchy mark that ranges from his index finger to the back of his hand.

 

“What you keep scratching at?” Soonyoung asks, balancing on the back legs of the chair. They’re reading over Seokmin’s paper, tail twitching occasionally behind them whenever they see something they don’t particularly like. So far, it’s been 3 twitches. It’s good enough, as far as Seokmin’s concerned. 

 

"I think Seungkwan might have put an itching hex on me," he scratches furiously at the mark, which burns even more.

 

Soonyoung stares at his hand for a beat too long, long enough that Seokmin's worried. They then pick it up and turn it side to side.

 

"You fucking idiot," Soonyoung swears. "You got your fucking mark."

 

Seokmin blinks at the red looking thing on his hand. Sure, he imagined a lot of things when he pictured his soulmate mark. His grandmother had an anchor, which didn't make sense until you saw the dock on his grandfather. His parents both had swans. Seungcheol and Vernon, on top of being werewolves, had the fortune of complementary wolves, Vernon's on his left calf and Seungcheol's on his right, that came together to form a full circle. Seokmin had pictured a lot of things, but he definitely didn't picture an angry, splotchy mark; it looked like he'd scalded himself more than anything else.

 

"I didn't touch anyone today though," he mutters.

 

Soonyoung rolls their eyes, which, considering their glowing red irises and all black sclera, was overall a scary thing. "Yes you did?"

 

"What?"

 

"You touched Seungkwan when you handed him your money."

 

Seokmin stammers.

 

"Seungkwan!" Soonyoung hollers.

 

“Yeah?” His head pops up from behind the counter. 

 

“I think I found your mystery soulmate.”

 

Seokmin grins sheepishly, waving his hand. Seungkwan’s expression morphs from one of annoyance into one of complete bewilderment. 

 

“Oh.” 

 

Seokmin’s heard a lot of ‘oh’s in his 22 years of life. None as loaded as Seungkwan’s though.

 

“Mind if I complete the process?” Seungkwan asks hesitantly, making his way from the counter to the table. 

 

“What process?” Seokmin’s bewildered. It makes soulmate bonding seem like a medical process.

Seungkwan pinches the bridge of his nose. “It’s like you know nothing at all about soulmates!” he whines.

 

“In my defense, I wasn’t even expecting a soulmate until I visited a witch for a reading.” 

 

“Let’s start over,” Seungkwan sighs, taking the seat in front of him. Soonyoung leers. 

 

Seungkwan smiles at Seokmin, and it's summer sweet, like the ice pops you buy for 50 cents, dripping down your fingers. It's hesitant too, but willing to try. They slide their hands together, palms meeting like they're praying, two halves of a whole asking for something bigger. The burning sensation flares up for the briefest of seconds before simmering off altogether and Seokmin watches with poorly concealed fascination as the red splotch resolves itself.

 

His entire hand tingles like it's fallen asleep, and when that feeling dies, he has his soulmate mark. A delicate branch decorates the index finger of his right hand. On Seungkwan's left index fingers, there are a cluster of tangerines.

 

"I fucking love tangerines," Seokmin mumbles.

 

"I do too," Seungkwan smiles.

 

And Seokmin isn't  _ trying _ to be cheesy but Seungkwan is summer personified, not quite the antithesis to his spring but more complimentary. More welcoming. More  _ welcomed _ . He had imagined this moment for years: an unnamed stranger, a brush of hands, a mark on his skin, a gentle smile. Never  _ expected _ it, but always imagined it his whole life, an endless loop of the same moment. Imagination is not quite like reality, and reality is staring at him with an oily face, coffee smudged on his shirt and hair the color of his green highlighter. Reality is Seokmin's new barista, tangerines on his finger. Reality, he supposes, operates in laws that are beyond the understanding of even the supernatural.

 

"My shift ends at six," Seungkwan offers shyly. "We can head home together, if you'd like. Get to know each other better."

 

Behind him, Soonyoung mouths the words  _ get to know each other better _ , grin sleazy. Seokmin flips them off when Seungkwan isn't looking. He resumes working on his paper — assured that this time the jitters aren't caused by ambrosia charged caffeine, but rather, the buzz of knowing Seungkwan is nearby, the same buzz his mother had talked so fondly about. Seokmin's progress is only interrupted by him standing up every once in awhile to brush hands with Seungkwan, relishing in the way the buzzing ceases, in the way an unnamed warmth, marshmallow sticky, flares up in him.

 

Six o’clock can’t come soon enough for Seokmin.

  
  


It does come, eventually, with Seungkwan out of his apron and in a soft yellow shirt that makes him look like the faerie personification of the sun. It’s possibly offensive to the various pantheons of sun gods, but Seokmin could take on a curse or two. 

 

“We can go to the park nearby,” Seungkwan says, shoving a takeaway cup of something at Seokmin.

 

“It’s hot chocolate,” Seungkwan says when Seokmin’s looks at it with furrowed brows. “Thought you could use a break from the caffeine and ambrosia.”

 

Seokmin takes a grateful gulp from the cup. It’s funny how sometimes, a hot chocolate can be more magical than any drink laced with  _ or _ from a magical source.

 

The walk to the park is quiet, but the comfortable kind, accompanied by a cooling breeze that Seokmin’s grateful for. The kind that saturates a late night drive, or a drizzly Sunday morning. Seungkwan’s pinky naturally finds its way wrapped around Seokmin’s, and he doesn’t even realize until Seungkwan stops dead in his tracks at a traffic light, Seokmin held back by his grip.

 

“Do you do that a lot?” Seungkwan sounds amused. “Walk into traffic?”

 

“Yeah,” he admits with a sheepish grin. 

 

Seokmin learns things too. How Seungkwan is still a sophomore, because he had to miss a year of school. His extensive work with some of the faerie courts. The exhaustion that accompanies said extensive work. His love for babies and food.

 

“Human food is just so gratifying, you know?”

 

Seokmin knows. He really does. They’re only a block or so away from the park when the wind whips up, ferocious with the bite of a fast approaching winter. Or perhaps, rain triggered by a demon summoning. Seokmin’s slightly suspicious; the clouds that are gathering look dark and heavy, the air charged with something more than static. He points it out to Seungkwan, whose brows furrow.

 

“Is your bag waterproof?” he asks. 

 

Seokmin’s not sure if he should feel thankful that someone remembers he has an essential electronic device in his bag or offended that Seungkwan doesn’t think he’s a potential lightning strike victim. He chooses to be thankful.

 

“Yeah, my friend Minghao enchanted it for me.”

 

Seungkwan bites his lips. “I’m not sure we can outrun it.”

 

“We can try?” Seokmin offers.

 

Seungkwan grins. Seokmin’s apartment complex is three blocks away at most, if they run, they could _ probably _ make it. They’re a block away when a crack of lightning is closely accompanied by the rumble of thunder, the rain falling hard. Neither one of them have an umbrella so Seokmin hastily unties his flannel from his waist, holding it over their heads.

 

It’s straight out of a book, really, the remainder of their run to his complex. Seungkwan’s laughter paints the air bright, triggering a chain reaction in Seokmin. Seokmin’s wet, and his hair is probably unattractively plastered to his forehead but the look in Seungkwan’s eyes make him feel like it’s worth it. All too soon, they’re at his complex, Seokmin shaking water out of his hair like a rogue puppy.

 

"Do you need an umbrella?" Seokmin offers.

 

Seungkwan laughs. "Does it really matter?"

 

Under the awning of his dorm building, Seokmin can see the way the rain parts naturally around Seungkwan who is not the least bit wet. Right.  _ Faerie _ . He snorts then, realizing it was completely unnecessary for him to hold his flannel over their heads. He can’t wait to tell his mother. 

 

So yeah. Maybe Seungkwan won't magically fill up the gnawing emptiness in Seokmin's heart, but faeries know how to make things bloom. Perhaps, Seungkwan can plants seeds instead. Seeds that will grow to eventually fill that hole.

 

"I'll see you soon?" Seokmin asks.

 

Seungkwan's face mellows out into a smile, cheeks flushing and eyelashes fluttering. "Yeah. I mean like, that's why I gave you my number, you know?"

 

"Yeah," Seokmin mumbles. "Yeah." He repeats, louder.

 

Seungkwan hesitates for a moment, and Seokmin raises an eyebrow at him. Seungkwan steps under the awning, crowding against Seokmin and he automatically grabs onto Seungkwan's waist. Seungkwan smiles, hesitant, then tiptoes to press a gentle kiss against Seokmin's lips. His lips are soft, softer than anyone Seokmin has ever ever kissed before. Before he can gather his wits together and kiss Seungkwan back, he's already pulling away. The kiss is brief, but Seokmin can feel the roots of something grander take place in his ribs.

 

"See you soon, Seokmin!" Seungkwan calls out as he rushes into the rain.

 

The first thing Minghao does when he sees the branch on Seokmin's fingers is grin.

 

"Told you you didn't need a love potion."

 

Seokmin promptly throws a pillow at Minghao's face. If he dives for his phone on the countertop the moment he sees it light up with a message, Minghao says nothing. 

 

Mingyu only figures out he has a soulmate a week later, when their apartment is flooded by a sudden overgrowth of greenery because Seokmin's too busy kissing Seungkwan on the sofa.

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
